Once, in Beijing, a young girl in a red gown huddled in a doorway.
Another time, in Cincinatti, a small wire-haired dog sprinted across a parking lot.
Last week, a gigantic monster on a small planetoid in the vicinity of Proxima Centuri ate a ham sandwich at a local monster-cafe.
On a nuclear sub beneath the ice of the Arctic, a captain of Hungarian descent vomited up the contents of his stomach, ingested the night before at a going-away party for a member of the crew.
On Broadway, a dancer in a leotard nervously practices for an upcoming performance, her first.
In a million years, alien archeologists studying the past will struggle to make cohesive sense of these disparate facts. They will eventually arrive at a solution that ties them all together and the research leader will win an award, despite there actually being no useful connection between them whatsoever.
Once, in Beijing, a young girl in a red gown huddled in a doorway.